


Relief

by mysticmajestic



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt Shiro, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Phantom Limb Pain, Post-Canon, Pre-Slash, Scars, massage therapy, pre-shance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 03:35:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15161690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticmajestic/pseuds/mysticmajestic
Summary: After losing the cybernetic hand, Shiro experiences phantom limb pain. Lance brings him relief in more ways than one.





	Relief

**Author's Note:**

> I think this was going to have a different ending, but I stopped writing this for weeks and forgot where I was going with this. 
> 
> I did my research on phantom limb pain relief, but I don't think anyone on the team is well-versed in that area, especially not acupuncture, so the route I took was the only one I figured would work given the circumstances.

It’s not worth mentioning.

They stop on Iggri, a moon known for its popular inns and eateries, on their way back home to Earth. As soon as the lions land, Pidge and Hunk are racing out, the Lions activating their particle barriers the moment they’re gone, shouting about _finally_ getting a rest. _Finally_ getting something to eat that’s not pre-packaged food goo. Lance and Allura follow out of their lions at a sedate pace, no less excited, but seemingly more tired than the others.

Shiro wishes he could partake in their enthusiasm. He grits his teeth as another spasm of pain shoots down what’s left of his right arm. Nerve endings trying desperately to find something that just isn’t there. Sweat beads at his forehead, droplets tickling their way through his hair and down his neck.

“Hey,” says Keith, breaking Shiro out of his reverie. He stands near the mouth of the Black Lion, watching him worriedly. “Are you coming down?”

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Shiro replies, “In a minute. Need a bit of time to myself.”

He manages to muster up a smile, hoping to reassure Keith, but he’s not so sure that it works; Keith’s lips twitch, but there’s an undercurrent of sadness, of worry. It’s annoying to a degree, but Shiro can’t blame him; it’s only been a month since he’d been brought back to life.

Krolia comes out from the back of the lion. She glances between the two of them, eyes lingering on Shiro for half a beat longer, then sets her hand on Keith’s shoulder. Their eyes meet, and she jerks her head forward to the ramp leading down to the moon’s surface. He inclines his head slightly.

“Right,” says Keith, moving slightly to the left so Krolia can descend. “Well, I’ll tell everyone where you are. Y’know, so they won’t worry.”

“Thanks, Keith.” Another spasm, so painful and unexpected that his whole body jerks. He pushes breath out between clenched teeth. “Actually, um, can you—can you get Lance for me?”

“Lance?” Keith’s eyes widen in surprise. “What do you want him for?”

Lance’s chirpy voice seems to sing through the air itself, a memory from their last pit-stop when Shiro had chosen to ride in the Red Lion. He’d had phantom pains then too, eased out by a muscle massage that had brought tears of sheer relief to his eyes.

_“_ _Don’t forget, Shiro! If you’re ever in pain again, you can just call for me. I’m not going to judge you, you know? And it’s okay to ask for help! We’re all here if you need us, especially me.”_

“Just get him, please.”

“…okay.” Keith leaves the Black Lion, taking the air of confusion with him.

 _Cub?_ asked Black. _Are you okay? Does Lion need to do anything? Lion feels Cub’s pain._

“I’m fine, Black,” he mutters, only to be wracked by another spasm. The pain is a constant thrum, but every so often it will just feel like the nerves have seized up, creating a burst of agony so bright and unexpected that it distorts his vision for a few seconds. “Nothing I can’t handle. Thanks, though.”

That earns him a dissatisfied grumble from Black, but there really is nothing that she can do. This isn’t like their last battle together, where she saved his life by storing his soul inside her. She could protect him from that fate, but she can’t protect him from the pain of a really shoddy amputation.

Haggar hadn’t been concerned with safe medical procedures, of how human biology different from that of an Altean; she and the other Druids had just hacked away at the arm until there was nothing but a short stump left. There was no need to be careful so long as he lived.

When the port for the cybernetic had been removed carefully by Hunk, Pidge, and Coran not long after his rescue, it was to find a mass of reddened, abused flesh underneath that had been left to heal up on its own as best it could. One of the cuts had been close to slicing into the brachial artery. A jagged scar is all that remains of that close call.

Still, they are optimistic about building him a new arm that would run on the Altean energy that Princess Allura is willing to infuse it with. All he needs to do is remain patient and wait .

“Hey, Shiro.”

Shiro jumps in fright, swinging his fist out. “What—”

The interior of the Black Lion swims back into focus.

“Whoa! Whoa!” Lance backs up a step, holding his hands up. “It’s just me, Shiro. It’s Lance.”

“Lance.” The name passes through his lips on an exhale, the tension draining from his body as if someone had pulled a plug. Shiro shoots him an apologetic look. “Sorry, didn’t see you come in.”

“All good,” says Lance. He sits backward in the pilot’s seat across from Shiro, arms draped over the back of the chair. “Keith said you needed me. Is it your arm again?”

His expression is one of sympathy, not pity. The differentiation makes all the difference in the world.

“Yeah,” says Shiro. He twitches, sucking in a deep breath as another flash of pain shoots through his stump. Lance pushes himself away from the back of the chair but then stops, as if he’d aborted an instinctual desire to rush to Shiro’s side. “These phantom pains are killer. I haven’t had them before; they cut my arm off and then put the prosthetic on immediately. Didn’t think— _ow!_ —it would be this bad.”

“Can’t say I understand the feeling,” says Lance, standing. “But let me see it. Maybe another massage will help.”

The one thing Shiro appreciates about Lance’s help is that he never pulls a face whenever he rolls the shirt sleeve up to expose the ruined flesh. Not like the others do. He can’t blame them for their reactions, it is ugly, but he feels too much like he’s on display.

Keith gets all broody and upset, Pidge and Hunk flinch, Allura sometimes can’t even look at it, and Coran gets that old, haunted look in his eyes of a man who’s seen war and the countless injuries people sustain from it. But Lance doesn’t react. Not since his initial intake of breath when he first saw it. Just accepted those scars were there and moved on. Shiro’s grateful, more than words can describe.

He groans as Lance kneads his flesh, gently at first before pushing down slightly, getting into the muscle. It still hurts, but there’s such a profound feeling of relief that brings tears to Shiro’s eyes, just like the first time Lance did this.

“How’s it feel?” asks Lance.

“Good.” Shiro quickly swipes tears from his eyes. “Really good.”

“We should make a habit out of this,” Lance replies. He murmurs an apology as he hits a sore spot that makes Shiro jump. “Three times a day, probably. You can’t just sit here in pain like this.”

“We can’t stop three times a day for this,” Shiro refutes. He knows everyone is keen to get back home and see their families; he won’t be the reason why they couldn’t get there sooner. They all deserve the safety and comfort of home. A little pain is worth their happiness. “We’ll never get back to Earth at that rate.”

“I’d rather get to Earth later than have you sit here in pain all day. It’s not fair to you.”

Shiro chuckles, bitter. “A lot of things aren’t fair. We can’t stop for this.”

“Then ride with me more often. I can put Red on autopilot for a while. Shiro, I can see the self-flagellating thoughts running through your head right now. You’re somehow convincing yourself that you don’t deserve this.” Lance takes a hand away to gesture at the other, which was still rubbing into the ruined flesh of his shoulder. “And I’m telling you that you couldn’t be more wrong.”

“We need to get back to Earth—”

“Which will still be there, no matter when we get to it. If getting home quicker means you’re in agony the whole time, then I hope we _never_ get there.”

That stops Shiro in his tracks, stunned. It’s no secret that Lance has struggled with homesickness ever since they left. Coming from a big family, he had always been in everyone’s business on the Castleship, filling the air with noise to distract himself from the fact that they were just seven people unable to fully occupy the space meant for thousands. For him to say he’d rather never go home…

“Yeah, I’m being serious,” says Lance. “I love you, Shiro. We all do. We want what’s best for you, and what’s best for you is to not be in pain all the damn time. Let us in and help you. If you don’t want the others to give you these massages, I will do it gladly.

"But Keith is tripping over himself to give you whatever you need. Hunk and Pidge have so many schematics for a new prosthetic. Coran and Allura are trying their best to do and be whatever you need. You are so loved, Shiro, and it pains me whenever you act like this. Pains all of us. We just want to help you, but you need to let us in. You deserve to be loved and free of pain, and we’re willing to give you all the love you need.”

Shiro feels the tickle of tears running unchecked down his cheeks, but he can’t bring himself to wipe them away. All he can do is stare at Lance, wonderful Lance, who’s smiling warmly at him as he works out the pain that’s not just in his arm anymore but in his heart.

“You’re not broken,” Lance continues. “You’re _not broken_ , and you deserve love. I hope that whenever your mood spirals and the depression hits, you remember that. And you remember that all of us, Team Voltron, isn’t here just to save the universe; we’re here to save each other. That includes you.”

Gently pulling his stump from Lance’s grip, Shiro seizes him in a hug. Buries his face in Lance’s shoulder, listens to the lighthearted way he chuckles and holds Shiro back. Shiro can’t make his voice work, but he knows that Lance hears ‘thank you’ nonetheless.

“I’ll work on it,” says Shiro. “I’ll work on getting better.”

“That’s all we ask. Never forget that we’re here to help you get better, and you’ll never burden us by asking for help.”

“I won’t. I won’t forget.”

“Good.” Lance pulls back, grinning, eyes sparkling with tears. He puts his hands back on Shiro's stump. “Let’s keep going with the massage, shall we?”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you liked it! All constructive feedback welcome. :)
> 
> I'm considering writing a part 2 where Shiro and the team have a talk and clear the air. But only if you guys are interested, so please leave a comment!


End file.
